Remodeling is not for pussies and other things I've learned out on the road ...

So I haven't been around for ages and ages. I know. Life happens and sometimes it happens with a sledge hammer and a divorce attorney and 103.8 fevers. I'm going to try to give a rough explanation of the last few weeks here, mostly for posterity's sake and to have a written record of it if ever I, indeed, fall head first into a bottle of something and cannot make my way out to tell the story. Sound drastic? Read on - believe me, you'll be sending me care packages of Shiner Bock and Jim Beam before you get anywhere close to the end.

Sweet Elvis, where do I even start?

{{{{{{{Editing this part out now even though I said I didn't care - turns out, I do care about hurting her feelings and broadcasting her business. Let's just say here that my Mom is going through some shit and those of us who love her are hurting along with her, too, and it has really set my emotions into a whirling dervish of instability.}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}

Friday night rolls around (over a week ago) and the kids got shipped off to the in-laws so I could help B prepare for the bathroom remodel, which was to start the following day. We had a great time, but woke up early the next morning to the news that Duck was very ill and puking. WTH?? Good lord -we were supposed to go to JPs for the weekend so that B and the other JP could rip out the bathroom walls and replace our old pipes with new copper ones. What to do? I was also supposed to help Mom move! Sweet crackers. So I got dressed, called JP and we agreed that, since the kids had played together all week, the germs had been spread and we should just go on with our plan.

I pick up the boys, and drive to JPs. Within an hour, all the kids start dropping like flies - fevers, crying, nausea. How awesome is that? So JP and I got into our Little House on the Prairie mode and spent the next 36 hrs tending to 5, count 'em FIVE, sick children. Is it drink time yet?

I drove my sick and tired children home Sunday night to find that the house is STILL a disaster, no running water, one of the guys helping B and JP got metal shavings in his eyes and had to go to the ER, my husband had smoked 3 cigarettes during this time although he was supposed to have quit. DAMMIT!!! Got the kids to bed, hung out with the guys and then passed out cold. I awoke at 3 am just in enough time to yell at B, "Is the water back on yet? Can I flush?" and then ran to the bathroom and puked and had "The Bad Poopies" (Thanks J.M. Bill, for that term,) at the exact same time. Looked down and saw that my period had arrived early and with force! HALLELUJAH - it just gets better. feh!

Next morning, B tells me that the water is on, but there is no shower in the bathroom upstairs and the sink is in the bedroom and the toilet flushes sometimes. The bathroom downstairs works, but there are no lights because he had to rip out the ceiling and the kids are scared of that bathroom. The shower down there DOES work but there is only scalding hot water. The dishwasher is loaded with dirty stuff, but we're not sure if the pipes are hooked up correctly, so don't use it and all the dishes are covered in insulation. YUM!

Meanwhile ...

At this point, I'm still sick. The kids are still sick. There is no food. The bills have been forgotten and they're all late. So, I lay around a full day and then on Tuesday, I go and pay all the bills. By now, Stealth's fever won't leave and he's coughing like nothing I've ever heard.

Wednesday - I don't even remember Wednesday other than I was supposed to make it to DDFF's class and I really needed it, but I got stuck with sick kids and the decision to rip out more of the walls. By the end of the day, the fact that I had had several beers was the only thing keeping me from getting in the car and driving far far away forever.

Thursday - realize that all the bills are paid, but we still have no food. Realize that I have a Target Card. Shop at Target and hide out in the automotive department while I have a mental and emotional breakdown and cry my eyes out. Make due with food from the Target Pantry until I can get cash out of savings for proper shopping. My SIL enters the hospital to have her son who is taking his own sweet time

Friday - Stealth is still not better. The walls are out of the bathroom everything is down to the studs. Take Stealth to the doc - BRONCHITIS!! Yay!! SIL has baby boy -we're too sick to go see him. Dammit. Realize that the main drain from the sink is clogged beyond repair and totally needs to be replaced - involving the removal of some wall studs. Lovely.

Saturday - realize that we have 2 sub floors. The top sub floor is rotted. Pull up top sub floor to realize that the bottom sub floor is also rotted in areas. Toilet comes out. Relegated to the basement toilet (see above for fears of said bathroom.)

Sunday - grocery shopping, endless hours at the computer doing the stupid ass defensive driving class, hearing B rip out the bathroom sub floors. Go to bed with stomach cramps -wake up with extreme pain and run downstairs in the dark, trip on a zillion toys, make it to the bathroom and fumble through the dark and attempt to avoid the nails on the floor and make it to the toilet in enough time to have serious gastrointestinal distress. For an hour. Get back upstairs to bed only to wake an hour later and repeat. Eventually, I just slept on the concrete floor in the basement.

Today, I finish the stupid course, attempt to take a shower in the horrifying downstairs, pack off the kids to the inlaws so we can continue to destroy our bathroom and hopefully not plummet to through the floor into the other horrible bathroom. At some point, I'd like to hang out with my husband. Well, maybe. Remember that Stopping Smoking thing? I guess it's still on 'cause he's being a total ass.

Oh and, to make matters worse, I found this photo this weekend and realized how fucking cruel and unusual gravity and age are. That's me at my High School Graduation with my father in 1994. Ah. Yep, I'll never get that look back. FUCK.

So, to recap -

The 10 day bathroom project is going to take about a month.

We may or may not have water at any time during this month -and frankly, even having walls and floors is questionable.

I have dealt with more poop and puke and fevers in the last 15 days to never ever want to enter a bathroom ever again.

My Mom has moved and B has lost his fishing hole, which makes him even less pleasant than he is now (why he married a woman and not a Bass is anyone's guess.)

My bathroom does not exist. What does exist is 50 year old pipes, 50 year old wall studs, and a rotten floor.

I'm turning 31 in a couple of weeks and have come to realize that I'm old and washed up and will never ever be that sexy 18 year old again - nope, Gravity and Age can suck my dick.

I STILL HAVEN'T MET MY NEW NEPHEW!!!!

Remodeling will kill an otherwise healthy relationship.

Kids are resilient - 30 year old hormonal women with diarrhea are not.

I still want to drive far far away forever and ever.

Blaring Kid Rock from your computer speakers will eventually blow one of them out, no matter if you have your own separate sub woofer.

Remodeling is not for pussies.

Is it happy hour yet?